We'll Dance Together
by Zanah1213
Summary: John and Sherlock end up dancing with each other on several occasions; these are the stories of events leading up to the first dance, and the many more or so I think that follow.


Sherlock ran his finger down a solitary string of his violin, _almost_ bringing it all the way down without disturbing the silence that had settled in the room he occupied; however, he decided on a whim to break the silence suddenly and almost _violently _by slipping his fingertip under the string and drawing it up so that his violin emitted a staccato note. In his mind, he reminded himself that it was an A flat that he had played, and a moment later he reprimanded himself, knowing full well that he could have made that note sound better if he'd been giving his violin even half the attention he'd just been giving John.

But the truth of it was that actually doing that wasn't possible because John was seated directly across from him and had been watching in rapt attention the whole time. And in doing that, as he'd waited for Sherlock to put the bow to the tenuous strings and apply the slightest pressure to produce sound, John had prevented any of that from happening by simply smiling and being distracting.

It was one of his rare smiles, one he reserved for Sherlock's eyes and that only appeared when they were truly alone; it was slightly crooked, and John always tilted his head just so when he smiled like that. Sherlock knew that there was something about that smile that he loved, and in turn he loved John even more for it, so he mirrored the smile on his face, not necessarily returning it at the time. He was just…replicating it in an imperfect fashion; the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and his lips pressed tightly together, but Sherlock knew the smile was not as beautiful as the ones John bestowed upon him at times. Even so, he tried.

Unfortunately, John's smile disappeared as soon as Sherlock brought that first note forth from his violin. He jerked forward in his seat a little, startled out of some sort of daydream or reverie as his eyes widened slightly; he gave Sherlock a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, which Sherlock managed to ignore by focusing his attention on his violin and plucking several more strings. He moved slowly, allowing each note to percolate through the silence of the room and make it go away.

Finally, when John had settled back against his seat with a slight shrug that suggested his thoughts were going something like _oh Sherlock _at the time and he had that smile back on his face, Sherlock felt ready. He retrieved his violin's bow from where it sat propped up against his seat, and within a second of getting it in his hand he placed it against the strings and began to play.

It was something that Bach had put together, or it might have been Wolfgang, but it only mattered to Sherlock who had composed the piece; John could neither tell nor care less about that fact. To Sherlock, knowing who only mattered because he could tell John off for not being able to identify what piece he'd played afterwards. Then he could be teasing about the whole thing and he could strive to be a little warmer towards John; it was only ever John he tried to do this for, and he was getting better at it every day.

"Feeling lively today, are we?" John said with a soft laugh, his smile widening as he spoke over the music. He was talking about the piece Sherlock had chosen, which he'd heard only once before and which he rather liked. Sherlock was barely paying attention, the fingers of one hand working over the strings while the other hand skillfully maneuvered the bow, but he managed a nod anyways. John laughed again, standing up this time and swaying a bit, as if to dance.

"I _almost _want to dance to this," he announced suddenly. In response, Sherlock faltered in his playing, accidentally hitting the wrong note but immediately moving on in the piece to cover up his mistake. He looked at John as he continued, an eyebrow raised in question; John stared back, seeming almost as surprised as Sherlock was by the declaration as well.

"And you know what? I would, if you'd join me."

"I'm afraid that's not possible; I'm sure you can work out why."

"Yes, you're right. It was worth a shot though," John relented with a sigh. Knowing perfectly well that Sherlock couldn't dance with John _and _play his violin at the same time, John felt oddly defeated. He eventually settled back down onto his seat though, and he held his chin in his hand, never allowing his eyes to leave Sherlock's lean figure as he played on. Closing his eyes, John allowed the music to envelop him fully, and that ended up being how the two men spent the rest of their evening; Sherlock played his violin well into the night and John continued to listen in reverent silence.

There was no dancing like John had wanted, but there was a comfortable closeness along with a plotting Sherlock, who knew that in time, there _could _be dancing.


End file.
